No one paid any attention to him. Gilbert was in deep meditation. He turned to Pell. "But I don't want to be under any obligation to you," he said.
"You won't," the other affirmed, and anxiety was in his voice. "Well, is it a go?"
"A go?" yelled Uncle Henry, unable to restrain himself. "It's gone!"
Hardy stepped in between Pell and Jones.
"Hold on, there! You can't do this."
Pell looked him squarely in the face, "Why not, I'd like to know."
"You mean you'd do me out of this property at the last minute?" Jasper Hardy asked.
Pell smiled. "That's my specialty!"
Indignation was in every fiber of Hardy's gaunt frame. He was losing his temper, and he was wise enough to know that that would never do. The unforgivable sin was to lose control of oneself. He must hold on to his voice, his movements; but a nest of hornets, under attack, could not have been angrier. "I protest!" he said, as calmly as he could. "Here I been settin' around waitin' for this place for five years! You can't come here an' take it away from me like this! No, sir, I won't have it!"
"Look here," Gilbert stepped in and said. "You're getting your money! What are you boiling about?"